


The Angel On My Shoulder

by ifishouldfall



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Additional Warnings Apply, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Guardian Angels, Alternate Universe - High School, Angels, BAMF Castiel, BAMF!Cas, Blood and Injury, Canonical Character Death, Complete, Eventual Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eventual Relationships, Guardian Angel Castiel, Homophobia, Homophobic John, Homophobic John Winchester, Homophobic Language, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, I Love You All, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Mild Blood, Multi, Self-Harm, Suicidal Dean, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Triggers, Ward!Dean, Watcher!Castiel, as usual, finally complete, hurt!Dean, trigger warning, wing!fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-20
Updated: 2014-12-17
Packaged: 2018-02-21 23:25:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 17,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2486087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifishouldfall/pseuds/ifishouldfall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Castiel” He turns towards Anael, his grace reaching out towards her own. “We have work for you”.<br/>“Of course, sister. Who is it?”<br/>“Come, brother. I will show you”<br/>Castiel took one look around his own personal heaven, before spreading his great, black wings, and flying straight to the source of Anael’s grace – on Earth.</p><p>Castiel is a Guardian Angel - or a 'Watcher'. When he is assigned Dean Winchester as his new Ward, he's not sure he'll be able to handle it after what happened to his last Ward.</p><p>Will he be able to save Dean from the hardest thing to save anyone from - himself?</p><p>**NOW COMPLETE**</p><p>ALSO, TRIGGER WARNING FOR THIS FIC. It's a bit dark and I'm sorry for that, so if you're easily triggered or easily upset please don't read, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> So here is the beginning of my new fic! 
> 
> I hope you guys are going to like it, I'm not sure how long this is going to be but a beta would be apriciated if anyone's up for it?
> 
> Comments and Kudos keep me going!
> 
> Find me on Tumblr at ifishouldfall.tumblr.com
> 
> Enjoy!

“Castiel” He turns towards Anael, his grace reaching out towards her own. “We have work for you”.

“Of course, sister. Who is it?”

“Come, brother. I will show you”

Castiel took one look around his own personal heaven, before spreading his great, black wings, and flying straight to the source of Anael’s grace – on Earth.

 

*****

 

He sat alone in his room, tears freely flowing down his face now. He didn’t care what was going to happen, or who would see.

He’d burst through the front door at 2am, fear coursing through his bloodstream. Breathing hard, he ran up the stairs, shutting himself in his bedroom and away from the world. Moments later, he heard a door down the hall open, footsteps padding softly down the hall, stopping outside his door.

A gentle knock, and a whisper.

“Dean? Are you okay?”

Without waiting for an answer, his little brother opened the door, closing it carefully behind him. Without hesitation, he crossed the room to the bed, clambering on top of it and wrapping his arms around Dean.

“I’m okay Sammy, it’s okay” Sam looked at him with his big, innocent eyes, and Dean instantly knew that his words weren’t convincing anyone. Dean’s heart clenched at the heartbroken look in his brothers eyes, like he knew what he was planning.

“No it’s not Dean, where did you go? I know dad was mad earlier but you were gone _hours._ What if something happened to you? What if someone hurt you?”

Tears threatened to fall, so Dean just crushed his 9 year old brother to his chest as he felt him begin to shake.

“No one’s going to hurt me Sammy, it’s alright” he murmured into Sam’s hair. “Not anymore”

Sam pushed away enough so that he could look Dean in the eyes. “What are you going to do, Dean?”

“Nothing, Sammy. Don’t worry”

Sam looked at him with wide, pleading eyes. Tears were already falling down his face at a steady pace, and it pulled at Dean’s heart.

“Promise me you won’t do anything stupid” Sam pleaded, hands tentatively reaching out to trace the raised scars exposed on Dean’s arms from where his hoodie had ridden up slightly. “Dad can’t keep hurting you or being mean forever, you’re 18 in just over a year, you can get out of here and be happy.”

Dean closed his eyes and breathed sharply in through his nose in a futile attempt to calm himself. He’d already made up his mind. As Sam’s sobs shook the bed slightly, he could hear the crackling of the letter already written below his pillow.

Guilt tore at him, he didn’t want to leave his little brother alone in this world, but what else could he do? He was just a ‘useless, no-life fag’ as their own father so lovingly referred to him as. The torture had gone on for years. The bullying from school, ‘faggot’ scrawled across his locker, names and insults tossed at him in the corridors, and despite his small group of friends - Jo and Benny – he felt completely alone and unprotected. To top it off, not even his home life was safe. His mother worked late shifts at the hospital, leaving him completely open to the brunt of his father’s anger and frustration.

He was finished with this life, and knew that his little brother would make it through alright.

They lay there for a while, until Dean could feel Sam’s breathing even out and slow. He waited a few more minutes, making sure he was completely asleep, before moving. He wiggled out of Sam’s embrace, standing over the bed to scoop his sleeping brother into his arms. He may be small now, but Dean was sure that in a few years’ time, he wouldn’t be the littlest anymore – he was part of a family of giants so to speak. A small smile played on his lips, before it was torn away. He knew he would never see the day where Sammy was all grown up, but that was for the best.

Struggling a little under the weight, and almost tripping over Bones – Sam’s golden Labrador – he managed to navigate his way to Sam’s room, placing him gently down on the bed, tucking him in the way he had done a thousand times before. He brushed Sam’s long hair out of his eyes before placing a swift kiss to his forehead.

“Goodnight, Sammy”.


	2. The Beginning Of The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lucky you guys! I was feeling generous (plus I'm just really excited for this fic) SO here's a chapter early!  
> Will still be updating MONDAY as usual.
> 
> ifishouldfall.tumblr.com
> 
> Thank you all for comments and kudos! Keep them coming x

An hour later and Dean was sitting on the cool white tiles of the bathroom floor, as they steadily became stained with dark, red blood, flowing steadily from his arms. The digital clock flashed 3:18AM at him.

A letter beside him, a razor blade in his hand and an entire bottle of sleeping pills already in his system.

He looked around him, as a wash of relieve came over him. Blackness clouded the edges of his vision, and he smiled slightly, as he felt his body slumping to the side.

“Sorry Sammy”

The last thing Dean was consciously aware of was his cheek hitting the cold floor in a pool of his own blood, and the darkness pulling him under. He suddenly felt like he was being held tightly, before bright white burst behind his eyelids.

Then, nothing.

 

*****

 

Castiel stood at the foot of a bed, belonging to a sandy haired teenage boy. His green eyes were dulled and his freckled cheeks were tear-stained.

He watched as the door opened, and the boy was swept into a heartfelt hug by another younger boy – presumably his younger sibling.

“Anael, what is requested that I do?”

Anael looked to him, patting him gently on the shoulder. “You must watch over him, Castiel. He is your Ward now”

Castiel looked towards the brothers with a worried expression. “But Anael, last time-“

“This is not going to be like last time, Castiel. You will be fine, he will be fine. Just let him in”

Castiel gulped, he was truly fearful of this task. He had not been allowed a ward for millennia, as his last ward... well, it did not end well.

“What is his name?”

“Dean. Dean Winchester”

 _Let him in._ Castiel breathed deeply, feeling his wings spread out behind him and his grace spread from his body. It explored all corners of the room, taking in the little details of this young boy’s life. He could sense a lot of pain in this life, so much so that Castiel’s grace began to recoil from it.

This was going to be a challenge.

He pushed his grace out further, extending it directly to the boy. The grace fought hard, its pure nature not wanting to be tainted by the pain of this young boy, but that was the point now. Castiel had to help him heal, he was his Watcher now. He touched Dean’s soul with his grace tentatively at first, but once his grace had gotten used to him, he seared the Watcher’s mark into Dean’s soul.

He was going to do right by this boy, he was going to help him.

***

Castiel had left the boy and his brother in order to go to back to heaven with Anael, to discuss the proceedings of his new Ward.

Dean Winchester… Castiel had a feeling that this boy would be very important. He did not know why, but the sensation was overwhelming.

His attention was drawn sharply away from Anael and her important speech, by a tugging at his grace. He closed his eyes and let his grace take over. In his mind, he could see Dean.

Dean in his bathroom.

Dean surrounded by his own blood.

Dean about to die.

No. This couldn’t be happening, he had not been Dean’s Watcher for more than an hour and yet he had already failed.

“Anael-“

She looked at him, taking in his frantic look. “Go”

Castiel spread his wings once more and arrived in seconds. He was not too late; he could still hear Dean’s heart beating as clear as day. It was a little slower, more sluggish than it should be, but as he slipped into unconsciousness, Castiel panicked.

As a Watcher, Castiel was unseen by the human eye. The only time a Watcher was able to be seen by a human, was if the Watcher wished for their Ward to be able to see them. It was the same with physical contact. As the job title suggests, these Angels merely watched over who heaven deemed to be ‘vulnerable’ humans.

He allowed his grace to reach out to Dean, enveloping his very soul. He could feel the love, the genuine _good_ that was there, and Castiel knew what to do in an instant.

Spreading his grace, still firmly grasping Dean’s soul, Castiel let his power wash over Dean’s rapidly dying body. It wasn’t working quickly enough. In a moment of panic, Castiel reached out and placed two fingers to Dean’s forehead, pulsing his grace directly there – willing him to heal.

Dean fell into complete unconsciousness, but it had worked. Castiel could feel it. The feeling of dread and death in his very core depleted rapidly, leaving him feeling calm. As he began to draw away, begin to release his iron grip on Dean’s soul, he felt it fight back. It grasped tightly at Castiel’s grace, burning his own mark there. Castiel let go quickly, worried he would do more harm than good if he continued the contact.

He left Dean like this, on the bathroom floor – but alive. There was nothing more he could do for now, he would just have to wait.

 

*****

 

Dean opened his eyes, quickly blinded by the bright summer sunshine. Where was he?

He looked around, a massive green field spreading around his feet for as far as his eyes could possibly see. He turned to his right, and a great, crystal lake rippled in the non-existent breeze.

“Dean” He turned quickly, he hadn’t seen anyone just now. A figure to his left startled him slightly, but he stopped to stare in awe.  The man stood beside him, looking no older than himself. Deep brown, almost black hair was mussed atop his head, and _damn,_ if they weren’t the most beautiful blue eyes Dean had ever seen, crinkled gently around the edges. Chapped lips and an incredible jawline, with smooth tanned skin.

He wore what looked like an ill-fitting suit, with a blue tie that appeared to be on backwards. Over all this, he donned an oversized tanned trench coat. This was all a bit strange to Dean; he’d never seen this man before in his life, yet felt completely calm in his presence. The strangest thing, however, would have the be the absolutely huge wings sprouting from the man’s back, a deep shade of black, but shifting and changing colours in the sunlight, shimmering slightly.

Dean stood, staring, with his mouth agape.

Was this heaven?

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

The sound suddenly blared steadily in his mind. No, this was too noisy for heaven.

Underneath the steady beeping, he could hear sobbing. Who was crying? There was no need to cry. This was supposed to be _good_ now. No more pain, no more trouble. There was meant to be peace in death.

The strange man stepped forwards, pressing two fingers to Dean’s forehead.

“I will watch over you”

He slipped back into darkness.

***

Pain. There was so much _pain._ No, this wasn’t heaven - maybe this was hell. Well, he wasn’t surprised, he wasn’t exactly an angel.

Dean opened his eyes, and all he could see was white. White ceiling, white walls, white light pouring in through the window, hurting his eyes. He retreated back into sleep, where the bright light couldn’t hurt him.

This went on for days. Waking up, hurting, going back to sleep. A few times, Dean could have sworn that Sam was by his bedside, but he couldn’t have been. Sam wasn’t dead.

It wasn’t till one day, when Dean opened his eyes, and felt the desperate need for water. His throat burned and itched, feeling like he’d swallowed sandpaper. It was today, he decided, to actually _stay_ awake and find out what the hell was happening. His eyes fluttered open and he was greeted once again with blinding white-ness, before attempting to sit up.

The first things he noticed were scratchy sheets and a pulling sensation in his hand.

Oh god, please no.

He looked down, fearing the worst and – yep, he was right. He wasn’t dead. He was in a god damn hospital room, attached to an IV drip. His arms were padded with thick white bandages, and Sam was slumped, asleep at the foot of his bed. He sat in a hard, blue plastic chair, leaning on his arms on Dean’s bed, drooling slightly.

As if he noticed the slight movement of Dean sitting up, he shot upright.

“DEAN!” tears falling down his face – and if it wasn’t the most heart breaking sight Dean had ever seen, he didn’t know what was.  Sam looked like crap. Pale, with bright purple bags under his eyes like he hadn’t slept in weeks, slightly sunken in cheekbones and eye sockets… God, what had he done to himself?

“Sammy” was all he managed to croak out, before gesturing to the water on the table beside him.

Sam quickly complied, filling a plastic cup with cold water, and helping Dean to drink it.

“Sammy I’m so sorry”

“No Dean I’m sorry, I’m sorry I couldn’t do anything to help and I-“ He stopped, choking on his sobs “Dean it was me that found you”

Fear and guilt and pain filled Dean’s mind. Of course, he knew someone would have had to have found him, but he had prayed it wouldn’t have had to have been Sam. He silently wished it had been John who found him, hoped that John would have felt some form of guilt or remorse for pushing his own son over the edge.

“Sammy I’m sorry-“He was abruptly cut off by their father bursting into the room.

“Oh, you’re awake” Was the first thing he said. No ‘are you alright’ or anything. Just… _Oh_. Nothing he wasn’t used to.

“Uh yeah. Hey dad” Dean began fiddling nervously with the sheets, but was saved from any awkwardness by a doctor walking in. Thank god.

“Ah Mr Winchester, finally back with us. I must say, you gave us all quite a scare. Now, due to the overdose you will have some lasting effects, tremors and such, but we’ll talk about that in more detail when you go through your rehabilitation” Dean began to shake as the doctor continued to talk. “Now, seeing as this isn’t your first attempt, Dean… we will be moving you to a secure unit for a while”

Dean shot panicked looks towards Sam and his father. “How long is a while?”

“Until we see fit, Dean. I’ll leave you with your family for now” The doctor checked his vitals before hastily exiting the room. Dean collapsed back onto the pillows with a huff.

This was not going the way he planned.


	3. Whispers In The Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this is a bit of a short chapter - if I get enough love I might post the next chapter early!
> 
> Comments and Kudos are amazing, thanks for all your love so far!
> 
> I changed my tumblr URL - I'm now at ifishouldfall.tumblr.com ! Feel free to send me messages on there too, I love hearing from you guys!
> 
> Anyway, on with the chapter!

The first few weeks in the psych ward went quickly. Wake up, eat breakfast, go to therapy – sometimes group, sometimes one on one – eat lunch, group activity, eat dinner, down time, sleep. The days went on and on like this. The only thing Dean had to look forward to at all, was Sam’s visits, his mother’s visits, and lights out.

Sam tried to visit every week, but being the little nerd that he was, he sometimes didn’t make it for doing his homework or some other school project with his little nerdy group of friends. Dean didn’t mind though, he was proud of his little brother no matter what, and seeing him at all made his days.

Mary however, visited him almost every other day. She worked very hard at the hospital, as John didn’t always make it into the garage where he worked for being drunk. Some days he wouldn’t come home from the bar in time to go to bed, let alone to go to work in the mornings, so Mary often picked up double shifts at the hospital. Dean was grateful for her showing up at all.

The fact that Dean and Sam were home alone so often meant that his self-destructive behaviours were far easier to hide from everyone.

He rarely saw his father; he had only come once – the day that Dean was admitted.

He’d been there about three weeks now, and wasn’t sure when he would be released.

The more he thought about getting out, the more scared he was. He began to think about what people would say when he went back to school. Dean knew that they were already talking about it – the crazy queer who tried to off himself – Sam had explained in a far nicer way, but Dean knew that that was the essence of it. The idea of school and the new onslaught of hate and traumatisation would land him right back here. At least, it would, if he didn’t do it right.

He just had to think of a new plan. A small smile played on his lips; he was going to be alright. At least, his version of ‘alright’.

 

*****

 

Castiel sat in his own personal heaven. He sat at the edge of the green pasture, dangling his toes in the water of the vast, clear lake. The sky was free from clouds, and the summer sun beat down upon him.

He was happy here. It was where he spent most of his days recovering from his last Ward. Castiel did not like to dwell on the happenings; however he could not do anything to stop his mind wandering to it. He toyed with the small glass vial around his neck, feeling his own grace encapsulated within vibrating gently, as if trying to jump out and join him once again.

He felt a pang of sorrow. Without this half of his grace, he was no longer as powerful as he should have been. After his last Ward – Samandriel – Castiel was tortured and tormented with his severed Grace. Michael, the leader of his garrison, called it “punishment” and “rehabilitation”. It was far from it.

Castiel longed for his grace, but was unable to return it unto himself for fear of death. Re-manifesting your own grace that had been severed in “rehabilitation” was punishable by Death himself. Castiel had only met Death once, and did not want to re live that moment.

His new Ward, however – Dean – was a magnificent being. Castiel watched over him at night, when he was most venerable. In all honesty, Castiel watched over him most of the time, especially when he could sense that Dean was having a distressing day.

His mentor, Anael, had taught him about the proceedings of where Dean was, and what they were doing there. Castiel understood all too well _why_ Dean was there, and wished for nothing more than to be able to heal his mind and his soul of all the rough, jagged edges filled with pain and sorrow.

It had been about three weeks of being Dean’s Watcher, and he knew that he was already making the same mistakes as before.

It had started on Dean’s first night of admission to the psychiatric ward. Castiel’s grace almost tore him from heaven when it began; Dean’s nightmares.

Castiel went straight to him, pushing his grace all around the room as he had done when he first met him. He allowed it to wash over him in gentle, soothing waves. That worked for a short while, but the flames of Dean’s personal hell broke through the calm once again, and Castiel felt as though he had no choice but to visit Dean in his own mind.

He closed his eyes in concentration, and when he opened them again, he was in a place not dissimilar to his heaven. He looked around – this _was_ in fact his heaven. He knew that it wasn’t the first time Dean had gone there – he had joined Castiel there on the night they had met.

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean turned to him, eyes crinkling at the edges as he smiled, and raised a hand in a small wave. They sat together at the edge of the lake, saying nothing, enjoying each other’s company. They did this, night after night, just sitting, waiting for the sun to rise and Dean to wake.

It was a peaceful arrangement, and Castiel felt as though he was doing his job right. He knew he wasn’t – he knew he was getting too attached already. The second he felt Dean’s fear, even if it was only in his subconscious, he was there in a second to chase the darkness away.

When Dean awoke, he would stay to watch over him until Castiel was satisfied he would be okay for a while.

Castiel also sometimes went to visit Sam. He knew Sam was a huge part in Dean’s life, and wanted to do anything and everything in his power to keep Dean afloat.

So he would go to Dean’s family home and check on Sam, on days that Dean was thinking about him often. That was one of the perks of being a Watcher. He was not only there to watch Dean, but he could also sense strong emotions in his grace, like sorrow, happiness, and loss. Dean often felt the loss of his mother, and of Sam, but barely ever the loss of his father. Maybe Castiel would find out why one day.

***

Castiel had been watching Dean for the morning, as he had sat and endured another tedious group therapy session, when he was pulled aside by his therapist Bobby.

“Son, they’re talking about letting you out at the end of this week. You’ll be having weekly check-ups and sessions with me when you’re released, but for now you’re going home. Think you’ll be alright?”

Castiel could sense Dean’s elation, but it felt _wrong._

“Yeah Bobby, that’s awesome. Great. I’ll ring Sammy, let him know”

As Dean walked off down the bland corridor to his room, a smile on his face, Castiel couldn’t help but think this was not a time for celebration, but he couldn’t figure out why.


	4. In A Moment Of Desperation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's a long chapter for you lovely lot, because I'm so kind (and hella excited about this story)...  
> ANYWAY, enjoy.
> 
> Find me on tumblr: ifishouldfall.tumblr.com

Three days later, and here Dean was, packing his small bag of belongings, ready to get back into the big wide world.

He finished packing his clothes – three pairs of jeans, two Henleys, four shirts and underwear. He sat on his bed, going over and over everything he packed – just to make sure he had it all.

Finally, he reached over to his bedside to pack the photograph that sat on his bedside table for the entirety of his stay. It was the first thing Sam had made sure to pack when he was told this was where Dean would be staying; the photograph of Dean, Sam and Mary, when Sam was just born - his first day home from the hospital. Dean had been just 8 at the time, and the photo depicted Mary sat on the front porch of their family home, Sam swaddled in her embrace, Dean with his chubby arms thrown around her neck, both frozen in a permanent giggle.

He sat on the bed and smiled, rubbing his thumb over the gilded edge of the photo frame, before placing it carefully on top of his clothes in his duffle bag, before zipping it up.

Dean stood, rolling his shoulders and stretching, feeling the gentle pop of his back after sitting in the same position for a while.  Throwing the strap of his bag over his shoulder, he took one last glance around the bare room. A single bed, a bedside table and a small dresser was all that could fit in the little box room that he had inhabited for the past month.

He walked into the hall, greeted by Bobby.

“You ready to go, kid?”

“Yeah, Bobby. I’ll be fine”

Bobby reached out and put a hand on Dean’s shoulder.

“I may have been born at night boy, but not last night. I can’t stop you leaving now, but promise me you’ll come back for yer meetings?”

Dean sighed; he knew he was a terrible liar, especially when it came to his feelings. He just put on a sort-of smile and shrugged.

“Like I said, I’ll be fine. And sure, see you around, Bobby”

Dean walked out of the reception area and passed through the automatic doors after filling out all the necessary forms.. The cool morning air was sharp against his skin, and he took a deep breath, breathing it all in. A car horn honking alerted him, and he turned to see his father, sitting stony faced at the wheel of his sleek black Chevy Impala. His mother was already happily bustling towards him, a genuine smile on her face, her arms outstretched, ready to embrace him. Behind her, Sam was already slamming the car door, taking off into a sprint towards Dean.

He chuckled as Mary began fussing over him, smoothing down his hair and straightening his red plaid shirt’s collar. Tears brimmed in her eyes and she let out a shaky laugh as she brushed them away.

“Sorry baby” She murmured, seeing the expression on Dean’s face “I’m just happy to see you again”

Dean was happy to be home. A month in that place may have been ‘the best way forward’ for him, but he would rather have been at home.

Not that he would tell anyone, but he felt no different leaving there now than he did when he was shipped into there. But no, to everyone now he was the New Dean, happy, healthy, and full of life.

Sam full on barrelled into him, even though he had only seen Dean two days ago. Dean ruffled his hair and pulled him close, Sam wrapping his little arms around Dean’s neck.

“Let’s go home, Dean” Sammy said, pulling him towards the car. Dean was only too happy to comply.

 

*****

 

Castiel sat in Anael’s heaven, a wide, sandy beach, opalescent water lapping at the shore. He sat as Anael chattered about her Ward, and what she was to do about her problems.

At the time that Castiel had been Watching his first Ward, Anael had been was Watching a young boy called Adam. He had been deemed vulnerable by heaven when he had lost both of his parents and his older brother, when the older brother Luke, had had a psychotic break and opened fire on their parents, before turning the gun on himself.

She was now Watching a young girl called Joanna. Castiel had never seen her – he had only heard stories of her and her friends, but since Castiel had been locked up in heaven for so long, he had not been of any such help to Anael and her Ward so far. Of course, Watchers were not intended to look upon another’s Ward, unless like Anael, you were the mentor of a Garrison.

Anael was currently rambling on about the similarities her two previous Wards. Joanna had been deemed vulnerable after her father had been killed by a drunk driver, and she had taken to alcohol herself as a coping mechanism. That was three years ago, and now with Anael’s calming presence, every time Joanna felt insecure or desired to consume copious amounts of alcohol; she would step in and send reassuring waves of grace, along with the feeling of _not being alone_ –something Castiel wished he could feel the same.

Anael was trying to come up with a new way of helping her Ward with a new predicament, and Castiel was only half listening to her. Of course, he wanted to help her, and her Ward; however he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling of worry about his own.

“Anael” He said, effectively cutting off her chatter “I do not know what to do”

“What is it, Castiel?” She stopped pacing and sat beside him, her red hair shimmering in the sunlight.

“It is my Ward. I am afraid for him”

Concern instantly filled her eyes, and Castiel did not miss them dart to his necklace. He quickly reached and tucked the glowing vial back into his shirt, feeling the smooth, cold glass resting over his sternum.

“And how am I to be of assistance brother?”

Castiel huffed and thought of a way to explain how he had been feeling. Like he wanted to give his Ward space – it was not common for a Watcher to spend as much time with their Ward as Castiel had been with Dean, even if Dean was not aware of it. He began to explain his feelings. The worry, the constant nagging fear of leaving Dean alone for too long, it was all too much.

Anael sat patiently throughout his speech, nodding along knowingly.

“Tell me, Anael. Am I doing it wrong? Am I failing, again?”

“No Castiel. Let me tell you something - a warning if you will. If you are getting too attached to your Ward and Michael finds out, you will be in big trouble. Bigger trouble than before” her eyes darted once again to where Castiel had concealed his grace. She could clearly see that Castiel was distracted and becoming more and more agitated.

“Just be careful Castiel. Go to him”

 

*****

 

The alarm screamed at him from the other side of his bedroom, and Dean groaned. He squinted his eyes against the bright morning light spilling into his messy room through his blinds, before dragging himself out of bed to slam on the OFF button. 

He shut his eyes against the light and scrubbed his hands over his face. He’d been having a very good dream, and he was disappointed to be woken from it. He didn’t know why he found such soothing comfort in the dreams about the strange man in his strange trench coat, but he’d been dreaming of him ever since he’d woken up in hospital. Although they barely ever spoke in his dreams, he felt safe with the man – or angel. The great black wings protruding from his back awed him, he could spend hours looking at them. And in his dreams, he could.

Stumbling across the hall to the bathroom, he quickly splashed icy cold water over his face in a desperate attempt to wake himself up. He brushed his teeth before hastily running his fingers through his hair until it settled in its usual spiky way. Perfect.

Dean wandered back to his room to get dressed for the day. His favourite pair of jeans and a long sleeved shirt to hide the scars. That should do it.

Grabbing his school bag, he knocked on Sam’s door before going downstairs to grab some food.

“Up and at ‘em Sammy! I’ll leave without you”

The door opened and Dean was greeted with a very disgruntled looking Sam, who was already dressed but looking like he had been dragged through a bush backwards.

“Sorry Sammy, did I interrupt the morning grooming session?” Dean winked, swiftly dodging the punch his brother threw at him.

Jumping down the stairs two at a time, the smell of fresh coffee and bacon hit him. In the kitchen, Dean found his mother hovering over the stove, making a plate of breakfast sandwiches.

“Dean honey, I just made some coffee for you, breakfast will be done in a sec”

“What’s the occasion?” Dean questioned. His mother was usually already at work by the time they left for school.

“It’s your first day back. I just wanted to be here for… moral support” she finished shakily.

“It’s alright mom, I know you just want to make sure I didn’t sneak back early to off myself. I get it”

“Dean, baby you know it’s not like that-“ Mary was cut off by John walking into the kitchen.

“Everything okay in here?” He asked gruffly, eyebrows raised.

“Yes, sir” Dean muttered, head down.

Dean grabbed a cup of coffee, downing it before Sam joined him downstairs. They both grabbed a bacon sandwich and John chucked Dean the keys to the Impala.

“I’m trusting you, son. Don’t mess her up, and I might let you keep her”

Dean left with a grin on his face, the prospect of school and the stress that came with it alleviated slightly. He slid into the driver’s seat, rubbing his hands over the steering wheel.

“Missed me, baby?”

“Just drive, Dean.”

Dean grinned, pushing Sam’s head away in a playful manner.

“Bitch”

“Jerk”

They drove to school in silence. The closer they got, the harder Dean grasped the steering wheel, until they were seconds away and Dean’s knuckles where bright white. He could feel his heartbeat in his throat and tears pricking the back of his eyes.

“It’s gunna be alright, Dean”

Dean didn’t have the chance to answer, as the second they pulled into a parking space and opened the door, he was hit with a whirlwind of blond and arms and _oh_ someone was hugging him. So tightly, in fact, he couldn’t breathe.

“Dean!” It was Jo. He wrapped his arms around her and patted her on the back slightly, tucking his head into the crook of his arm, his nose touching her neck. He heard a gruff laugh and raised his eyes slightly, only to see Benny standing there with an expectant look on his face.

“Don’t I get a hug too?” he joked, but Dean let go of Jo to hug Benny too, clapping him on the back.

“It’s good to see you guys”

“It’s good to see you too, brother. Don’t go scaring us like that again” Of course Jo and Benny knew what had happened. Mary and Jo’s mother Ellen were best friends – had been since childhood. The second Dean had been admitted to hospital, Mary had called Ellen in the hope of seeking comfort. Jo had inevitably found out, and wouldn’t keep something as huge as that away from her other best friend.

They walked into the grim high school building together, waving Sam goodbye as he walked to the middle school. Dean feared the looks that his fellow students would be giving him, but the constant chatter that Jo and Benny were reeling off kept Dean’s mind and paranoia at bay.

His first few lessons went through with a blur, he hadn’t even noticed it being lunchtime already.

Dean was waiting at his locker for Benny and Jo when a tap on his shoulder alerted him. He turned, expecting to be faced with his friends, but only found the face of a foe.

“So nice of you to join us again, Dean” Alistair’s nasally voice sent shivers down his spine.

As much as John was his bully at home, Alistair was just the same version for school. He was slammed against his locker, Alistair’s arm at his throat.

“Why didn’t you finish the job Dean? You’re such a failure, you can’t even off yourself right. Do us all a favour, and try again? Practice makes perfect, as they say” He laughed manically, dropping his grip and walking off as if nothing had happened.

Without even thinking, Dean stormed out of the school building and straight to his car. His hands were shaking so hard he fumbled with the keys for a good few minutes before he managed to get the key in the door, slamming it behind him. He took a few seconds to compose himself, before starting the car and driving out of the parking lot.

He could see Jo and Benny in his rear view mirror, matching looks of concern on their faces. His first day back wasn’t really going the way he had hoped it would.

Dean drove and drove, until he reached somewhere he had only been to a handful of times before.

When Dean had first gotten his licence, John had allowed him to take Sam for a drive. They had driven for what felt like hours, just them and the silent road, until Dean had found a secluded path that lead off from the main road. They had followed it until it reached a small clearing, where Dean parked the car and they carried on their journey on foot. Eventually, they reached a small cliff, that looked over the entire city.

When Dean had started coming here with Sam, they acted like it was their own secret place, despite Dean knowing it had probably been discovered a thousand time before by a million different people, but he liked the idea of Sam thinking it was theirs.

It was calm, and it was quiet. They had never come across anyone else there, and being so far away from the road there was no noise to disturb them.

Dean started going there alone once John’s abusive streak started. The first night he had drunkenly declared his hate for his stupid faggot son, Dean spent the night there.

The calm, quiet of it relaxed him, and he didn’t know why. Maybe it was the fact that if he sat on the very edge, with his feet dangling precariously, he could close his eyes and imagine himself jumping, falling, flying.

He drove until he reached the clearing, parking the Impala and walking the path like he’d done it a hundred times. It was the middle of the day, so everyone would be either at work or school, ensuring that no one would stumble upon him, not that they ever had before.

He reached the summit of the hill, the chalky white of the ground edging the lip of the cliff. He took a deep breath and stood at the very edge, spreading his arms wide open like he was embracing the open air, inviting it to him.

Was he going to jump? He hadn’t come here with that intention, but he’d be lying if he said that thought hadn’t crossed his mind. He wouldn’t ever have found out though, when a hand grasped his shoulder tight and pulled him back sharply.

Dean turned quickly, an explanation about how he wasn’t crazy or suicidal or anything on his lips, when his eyes met ones of startling blue.

Dean stood, opening and closing his mouth like he was gasping for air, or trying to say something intelligent, but no sound came out. The angel from his dreams spoke instead.

“Hello Dean”.


	5. The Ghosts Of My Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you go my lovelies, enjoy the new chapter!  
> Having a bit of trouble writing at the moment, lack of motivation and all that, so keep your comments and kudos coming in, and thank you to all who leave them!  
> I love you all, find me on tumblr at ifishouldfall.tumblr.com  
> Enjoy!

“You” He must be going mad, how could it be possible that the guy he’d been dreaming about was here? Right in front of him? What was happening? Dean stepped back from him.

The man just stood there, squinting his eyes and tilting his head slightly, as if gauging Dean’s reaction.

“I know you” Dean breathed.

“Dean, please. Come away from the edge” Dean looked behind him, only now realising he had backed away slightly in shock or fear, or both – leaving him centimetres from the edge. He stepped back towards the man, taking the opportunity to scrutinize every detail of his face, making sure it was really _him._

“Who- What? I…” The man reached a hand forward and rested it on Dean’s chest. Dean instantly stopped his babbling and looked helplessly between the man’s hand and his face. “Who are you?”

“My name is Castiel”

 

 

*****

 

 

“ _What_ are you? I’ve seen you in my dreams… with _wings”_ Dean gestured wildly towards his back. He just didn’t seem to be handling the situation very well.

Castiel took a deep breath. He knew he shouldn’t tell him, but it was too late now. He had already manifested himself in front of his Ward. Alongside getting attached to him, this new development held a far worse punishment, but Castiel couldn’t bring himself to care.

“I’m not going to lie to you Dean. You must understand I am not… human”

Dean just nodded his head like it was the most obvious answer Castiel could have given, so he continued.

“I am your Watcher, and you are my Ward. I suppose on Earth you call us ‘Guardian Angels’. Heaven deemed you as vulnerable – I’m sure you can understand why – and I was assigned to you. It is not strictly allowed, my frequent visits to you, even if you are not consciously aware of what is happening”

Dean stared, wide eyed and gobsmacked. “So you’re an angel?”

“Yes Dean. I am _your_ angel”.  Dean smirked at that.

“The angel of my dreams” He grinned “So if you’re not allowed to visit me, why do you?”

Castiel sighed. He knew Dean would ask, and he knew he owed him an explanation.

“My first Ward, he was called Alfie. I was to be his Watcher, but I failed him. He too was suicidal, however I was but an inexperienced fledgling when he became my Ward, and I did not make it to him in time when he needed me most. He died bloody in my arms and I was… Punished”

“Punished? Why were _you_ punished for his death? It wasn’t your fault – you didn’t know what you were doing! It wasn’t you who killed him, or made him feel like that! How is that fair?” Dean was red in the face, frustration brimming in his mind. Castiel could feel it radiating off him, and hastened to placate him.

“I was punished because I got too attached to him. I presented myself to him as I do to you now, and that is strictly forbidden in the role of a Watcher. I am simply to _watch_ ”

Dean huffed and ran a hand through his hair. He sat at the edge of the chalky cliff, with his feet dangling over the trees below. He motioned for Castiel to sit beside him, to which he complied.

“So what did they do to you? If you don’t mind me asking…” Dean asked, rubbing his wrists in a nervous gesture. Castiel placed a hand over Dean’s, in an attempt to stop him – he was worried he would irritate the healing wounds there and make them worse.

Castiel faced the sky before he began again.

“I had half of my grace taken from me.” Dean’s questioning gaze brought the realization that Dean knew nothing about heaven, angels, any of it. “Grace is not unlike the human soul. It is our very essence; it’s what we draw our power from. It’s also like our heart, it’s our life force”

Dean nodded, and Castiel took this as his cue to continue again.  He pulled the vial out from underneath his dress shirt and presented it to Dean “the other half of my grace is now held in here. They were able to take it so that I wouldn’t hold as much power as before, but they couldn’t completely rid me of it. Without this in relatively close proximity to me at all times, or if I lost it completely, it would be like my soul being taken from me, or my heart. I would die - eventually. I’m no longer allowed my full power if I’m… ‘unable to use it properly’, as I believe it was put”.

Dean just continued his staring, and Castiel was beginning to wonder if staring was a human custom that had a new meaning that he was unaware of. Last time he had been on Earth, no one stared at him this much, or anyone else for that matter.

“How does it work?” Dean asked abruptly. “Like, do you have to watch me _all_ the time, ‘cause that’s a little creepy”

Castiel huffed a small laugh, smiling at Dean. “No. I don’t watch you all the time. I only watch when I sense you need calming, or assistance”

“Wait, sense? You can feel my feelings?” Dean made a face at his oddly worded question.

“I suppose you could put it like that. When I was assigned you as my Ward, I had to allow my grace to welcome you. I burned a Watcher’s Mark into your soul.” Castiel ignored the concerned look that Dean shot him, and continued. “I have a heightened sense of your emotions though; things went a bit… _differently_ to what I was expecting when I helped you the first night”

“Wait, it was you who saved me? I didn’t just, miraculously survive? And what do you mean ‘ _things went differently’_?” Castiel was beginning to sense Dean’s agitation, and was all too eager to appease him.

“Dean, I had to save you. It is my _job_. I _wanted_ to save you. I couldn’t leave you like that” He choked off, reliving the moment he found him. At the time, he dealt with it surprisingly well – he had been trained that way – but when he returned to his heaven, the thoughts of what could have happened plagued him, until he gave in to his desires and went to check on Dean in his mind. Dean sat and listened as Castiel explained everything from the night he had first met Dean.

“When I used my grace to save you, your soul reached out to meet it. You… you are special Dean. You burned your own Mark into my grace. I’ve never seen it done before, but somehow you did it. It has only been beneficial so far, however”

“Wow…” Dean breathed, taking it all in. They lapsed back into comfortable silence again, before Dean’s curiosity got the better of him again.

“So, why are you here? I get that you’re my Watcher or whatever but, why are you _here_ ” Reaching out, Dean took Castiel’s hand again.

“Because you’re different. Because you mean more to me than heaven does, and I can’t work out why”

He reached around his neck, unclasping the chain that hung there. The second the vial lost contact with his skin, he felt light headed. In a moment, it passed, and Castiel recomposed himself. He surged forward, securing the chain around Dean’s neck to join the bronze pendant that already hung there.

“Cas-?” Dean questioned, holding a puzzled gaze.

“I want you to have it, Dean. If I am near you as often as I am now it won’t affect me. As long as I am near you, I will be okay”

 

 

*****

 

 

Lost for words, Dean just stared at Cas.

He’d just been told by literally the man of his dreams that he was more important than heaven to him. If that wasn’t a confidence boost, he didn’t know what was. He’d also just given him basically _half his life force_. He must be special.

He fingered the pendant around his neck, feeling the vial vibrate slightly against his touch. The cool, smoothness of the glass had an almost calming quality about it. He felt a sense of almost security with it around his neck. Like no one could hurt him anymore.

They didn’t talk anymore that day, continuing their meeting like in Dean’s mind, in comfortable silence. Dean still clasped Castiel’s hand in his, and couldn’t bring himself to let it go. He found that he didn’t _want_ to let it go either, and the notion didn’t scare him as much as he supposed it should.

They stayed until the sun disappeared behind the horizon, before Dean stood, pulling Castiel with him.

“I’ve got to go back, my family will be worried…”

“It’s fine Dean. I know all about them, don’t forget. Sam will be glad to know you’re alright”

“Right, Watcher thing. Got it”

Dean got back into his car, leaving Cas at the cliff side. He drove out back onto the main road, not stopping until he reached his driveway half an hour later. Mary’s car wasn’t in the driveway, and no one answered the door when he knocked.

He fished his phone out of his pocket and dialled his brother’s number.

“DEAN!” Sam picked up on the first ring, and he could hear Mary and John in the car in the background.

“Where the hell have you been Dean? We’ve been driving round half the night for you” Mary’s voice was wrecked.

“I’m so sorry, I went for a drive to calm myself down, I didn’t think to call, I’m so sorry”

“We’re on our way back now, we’ve been looking everywhere for you” John said. Dean assumed he was on speaker phone.

Dean looked to the sky, now inky black and peppered with stars. He smiled, for the first time in a long time, feeling okay.

“I’m sorry. It’s all gunna be okay. I’m okay now, I promise.”

**_CRASH_ **

The line went dead.


	6. What I Wouldn't Do For You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my lovelies!  
> Thank you so much for lovely comments and messages I've been sent! And thank you all for your kudos, and thank you for keeping going with this fic!  
> Find me on tumblr at ifishouldfall.tumblr.com and send me some love!
> 
> Anyway, here's the much awaited next chapter, so enjoy.
> 
> (Also this chapter might be triggering, so just be careful please)

 “Cas? CAS!”

Castiel had been back in heaven all of two minutes after spending the afternoon with his Ward. He had felt a sense of elation when he left through Dean’s soul, heightened by Castiel’s grace now psychically _and_ metaphysically bonding them.

The sharp spike in _panic_ and _fear_ in the bond sent Castiel hurtling back to Dean.

He watched as Dean fell to his knees, panic clouding his mind and causing all thinking to abruptly end.

“Dean” Castiel’s legs appeared in Dean’s field of vision within seconds of calling him. “Dean, what is it?”

“Sammy... Mom, Dad, Cas I think there was an accident, I –“

Knowing that Dean wouldn’t be able to communicate efficiently in his current state, Castiel kneeled before him, and reached forward to press two fingers to his forehead. He closed his eyes and looked into Dean's mind, trying to find the source of all this.

He found it within moments, and cradled Dean’s face in his hands.

“Dean, we can go to them”

“I don’t know where they are I can’t drive to them I –“he hiccupped, his babble cut off.

Castiel stood, extending a hand down to Dean, who just continued to stare up at him with panic filled eyes, wide and wild looking.

“I can take us there”

Dean hesitantly took Castiel’s hand, and as soon as physical contact was made, Castiel spread his wings and flew in the direction of Sam’s soul. Having watched over him while Dean was in the psychiatric hospital, Castiel had become accustom to the feeling of Sam’s soul.

It wasn’t dissimilar to Dean’s, but instead of blackened self-loathing and general hatred, Sam’s soul was full of light and hope. Castiel smiled, imagining Dean’s had once been similar.

When they reached the site, Castiel almost wished he hadn’t brought Dean.

They were stood on a narrow country lane, not too far from Dean’s family home. There was one car cushioned in the bushes to the left, and another car in the middle of the road on its side, windows shattered and broken glass creating constellations reflecting the moon’s white light on the black asphalt.

Castiel prayed to all that was good and holy that it was Dean’s family in the bushes, but a flicker of a soul next to the car in the middle of the road proved otherwise. He quickly prayed to his brothers and sisters to help the other family, as he walked to the car in the middle of the road.

Dean ran right past him, screaming for Sam, for his mother and his father, his sobs shattering the night’s silence.

“SAMMY! Please, God, Sammy no!” Dean crunched through the broken glass as he tried to reach his brother’s broken body. Sam had been thrown from the car on impact, and Castiel could see his phone inches from his lax hand.

“CAS! Cas please do something” He sounded so wrecked that Castiel felt tears pricking the back of his eyes. He had never felt so moved, so much emotion for a family that wasn’t his own. He sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face.

He was going to get severely punished for this.

 

 

*****

 

 

“I can try something”

Dean spun round, staring Cas straight in the face. “Anything! I beg you”

Castiel walked forward, extending his hands to Dean, who quickly scrambled forward to embrace him. He wrapped his arms tight around Dean’s torso, grounding him through his broken sobs. Dean melted into his arms and wrapped his own arms around Cas’ waist.

“I know this is hard Dean, I’m so sorry this happened. But there is something I can do, something I can try. But you have to understand Dean, I could get severely punished for this, which is why… which is why I can only save one of them”

Dean stiffened instantly in Cas’ arms, and quickly let go of his own vice-like grip to lean back and look at Castiel.

“What do you mean, one of them? They’re my family, Cas!”

“And you’re my Ward, they are not. I only have permission to interfere with _your_ life Dean. On top of that, I’m not even at full power. It took nearly all my power to save you alone, it would kill me to save all of them, even two of them. I can’t do that, I can’t sacrifice myself and leave you alone. I won’t leave you alone”

Dean nodded, and went back to squeezing Castiel, fresh tears running down his face.

“I don’t want to lose you. But I don’t want to lose them either”

“I understand Dean, but I must ask, who –“

“Sammy. Save Sammy”

It killed him to say it. He couldn’t bear the thought of willingly saying ‘hey sure, leave my mom and dad to die, as long as I get my little bro back, I don’t care!’ but the fact was that Sam was always the one who came to Dean when he knew Dean needed it most. Mary and John cared for him too, but Sam was the one who knew _everything_ about Dean, and had accepted whatever he had given him, no matter what.

They were each other’s life line, and Dean would rather die than loose his little brother.

He felt Castiel pull away, as he moved towards the car. Dean felt the loss as soon as the physical contact was broken, but stayed put. He watched as Cas knelt beside Sam, rolling his sleeves up before pressing his hand to Sam’s forehead. Dean felt the vial around his neck begin to vibrate. He looked up, seeing  Cas’ eyes glow a bright white before he closed them, and light seemed to travel down his arm and into Sam.

Dean watched in awe – he didn’t know how long he stood there for, just watching his guardian angel heal his little brother. It was a lot to take in.

He quickly pulled his phone out, dialling 911 to alert the hospital to try and save the other family. Cas spoke when he put the phone back in his pocket.

“It is done”

Dean instantly ran to Cas’ side, dragging his brother’s body from the angel’s grasp and into his own, wiping the bloodied hair from his eyes, like he had done for a thousand bedtimes.

“I have healed his internal injuries – I stopped the internal bleeding and I fixed his severed spinal cord. He will live, and don’t look so worried Dean, I fixed it, and he will still be able to walk”

“Thank you Cas. Thank you so much” Dean didn’t even care that he was messily crying. “You don’t know how much this means to me”

Castiel just smiled at him, as he reached forward to run a hand through Dean’s hair, an unnameable emotion glittering in his eyes.

“Come, Dean. He will be alright, but we have to leave now. The ambulance will be here soon, and I will bring you to the hospital when I sense that Sam is there”. Dean was uncomfortable with leaving his brother alone – scrap that, he fucking hated the idea – but he knew it was the right thing to do. There was evidence that there had only been 3 people in the car at the time of the crash, so Dean didn’t want to complicate things.

He pressed a soft kiss to Sam’s forehead, then moved his head gently off his lap and back onto the asphalt. He grabbed Sam’s phone, pocketing it as he stood to face Castiel.

“Take me home”

“As you wish, Dean”

Dean closed his eyes so he wouldn’t have to see his brother’s almost lifeless body, or his parents chilling corpses. He spared a thought for the other family as he heard a fluttering of wings and he was pulled off his feet and into the dark night.

 

*****

 

Castiel was becoming more and more nervous. Surely by now heaven would have noticed his constant use of grace? The misuse of his powers?

As a Watcher, Castiel’s garrison leader – Michael – was able to sense the entire garrison’s use of grace and power as a means of controlling them. That is how Castiel had been caught out the first time. Michael had noticed that Castiel had been using his grace an awful lot; a side effect of being constantly manifested. He had gone unnoticed as he observed Castiel on a near daily basis – as he manifested himself in front of Alfie.

Alfie had only been young, 13 years old, and Castiel had been his watcher since he was 7 years old. His visits began much like they did with Dean – in the safe sanctuary of his mind at night. But when Alfie began crying out for him during the day time at 8 years old, Castiel didn’t have the heart to turn him down. Castiel would sit and read to him, and the older Alfie got, the more of a permanent fixture in his life Castiel felt. That was, until the self-harm started.

Castiel had been dragged down one night with an uneasy feeling settled deep in his stomach. Alfie was 10. It was the first time Castiel had found him bloody in his bathroom, but it certainly wasn’t the last.

He shuddered at the final memory

***

_“Alfie?” Castiel was waiting for him to return home from school, as he always did. He sat expectantly on the young boy’s bed, raising his head in question as he heard the door softly open and shut._

_He was not expecting to see Michael standing over him, a furious glint in his eye._

_“Castiel! How many times have I told you, YOU CANNOT DO THIS?”_

_“Michael he’s my Ward, he_ needs _me!” Michael silenced him with a wave of a fist and a hand around Castiel’s throat._

 _“I’ve put up with this long enough, Castiel. You_ will _get penance for this”_

_Castiel could only silently scream as he was torn from earth and pulled to heaven against his will. He was strapped into a chair within Michael’s heaven, a white, clinical thing, as he thrashed desperately._

_Michael loomed over him, his sleek, chrome blade glinting maliciously in his hand._

_“You will pay” were the last words Castiel heard before Michael plunged the blade into his core, until it hit grace and Castiel’s world went black._

_*_

_Castiel woke, still strapped into the chair, feeling feeble and weakened._

_“Michael” He called. Even his voice sounded wrecked. “What have you done?”_

_Michael came back into Castiel’s field of vision._

_“Ah, Castiel. You’re back with us. I simply, altered you”_

_Castiel began struggling against his restraints. What had Michael done to him? He needed to get to Alfie, he could feel Alfie was in trouble, he needed him, he -_

_Michael waved a hand, and Castiel’s restraints disappeared. Castiel instantly sat up, rubbing his wrists. He felt a cool object bounce against his skin at his sudden movement, and he raised a hand to it._

_As soon as his fingers came into contact with the glass, his metaphorical heart dropped to his metaphorical stomach. “No”_

_Michael grinned down at him. “Yes, Castiel. This is what you get for disobeying. Now, go to your precious Ward, see what good it does”_

_Castiel didn’t need to be told twice. He spread his wings, not feeling as powerful as they once did, and darted towards Alfie._

_He stood in the middle of the 13year olds bedroom, no sign of life there. His school bag was there though, unzipped with the day’s work spilling out onto the bed sheets. Castiel felt a sinking feeling in his stomach again as he walked franticly to the bathroom._

_Alfie was there, all right. Laying bloody in the bath, fully clothed and white as a sheet. Castiel let out a noise somewhere between a sob and a scream, dragging Alfie’s lifeless body from the red water, sobbing with him cradled in his arms._

_His first Ward, and he had already failed._

_He looked up when he heard a sort of chuckle behind him, faced with Michael._

_“See Castiel? This is why you shouldn’t disobey._

_***_

The sound of Dean pacing yanked Castiel from his memory, and he was glad for it. He shuddered, shaking off the memory. Dean looked at him questioningly, but didn’t push.

“Cas, can we go to the hospital yet?“ Dean’s phone began blearing from his pocket, and he held a finger to Castiel, cutting off the reply already forming in his mouth.

“What? Yes, yes of course doctor, I’ll be there right away” He hung up the phone, and raised his eyebrows. “Go time”


	7. Falling Feels Like Flying

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Posting this a day early as I won't be able to do my usual Monday update, next chapter will be up next Monday.  
> Hope you enjoy this chapter, and again thank you for the messages and comments you guys have been leaving me and sending me on tumblr, they make me so happy!  
> Message me on tumblr at ifishouldfall.tumblr.com 
> 
> Please be mindful that there may be triggering content in this chapter, so proceed with caution if you are easily triggered. Sorry x

Sam wasn’t released from the hospital for a long time.

Even though Cas had healed his internal wounds his legs were badly broken, along with his shoulder, a few cracked ribs and a fractured collar bone. Sam didn’t wake up for over week after being brought to the hospital. Doctors were worried he had received some kind of brain damage that was causing his coma, but when he woke up after 9 days, the doctors put it down to his body allowing itself to heal in peace.

Dealing with his parent’s deaths, and on top of worrying about Sam, school proved too much for him to be able to handle. He couldn’t concentrate the day after the accident at all – even if it was only his second day back – and decided to do something about it.

Principle Henriksen had been alerted of Dean’s new situation, and wasn’t surprised at his appearance for what turned out to be a lengthy discussion about what would be best for Dean.

The thought of not having to go back to school was a huge sigh of relief for Dean. He didn’t want to have to go through the stress and anxiety that he had already been going through, mixed with his new situation. It was decidedly not for the best, and the added weight of school was officially too much. The fact that he didn’t have to go back made things a little easier to cope with. He left the school after successfully dropping out, fully intending on finding some kind of job before he went back to the hospital in time for visiting hours.

He asked around town on the way back to his house if anyone had any vacancies for jobs, many of which turned him down. One small café - run by a short, perky but slightly irritating man called Gabriel with a mischievous glint in his eye and a shit eating grin – Dean ran into by chance. Despite his irritating demeanour, Dean decided he liked him. Gabriel decided he liked Dean, too, when he offered him a well-paid part time job.

He left the coffee shop, aptly named _The Angelic Bakery,_ which Dean could confirm after sampling a piece of cherry pie before leaving – on the house – with a bounce in his step. He walked along the sideway a little until he reached where the impala was parked, and drove back to the hospital, just in time for visiting hours.

Over the month that Sam spent recuperating in hospital, Dean had obviously spent the majority of it by his side, when he wasn’t working or kicked out by Sam’s nurse Missouri – a kind hearted-but firm woman, with coffee coloured skin and a gentle nature (most of the time). She usually let it slide when Dean fell asleep at Sam’s bedside, but sometimes over-staying visiting hours earned Dean a slap upside the head.

During the time that he was at the hospital before or after visiting hours, or even walking to Sam’s room, Dean would often encounter the other regulars. One spunky, fiery-haired girl in particular Dean had made fast friends with, after bumping into her when he was convinced he was going to be late after a long shift at work. Still wearing his uniform of a red polo shirt and black jeans, flour everywhere, he had collided with her running round the corner. He bumbled through his apologies, noticing her Harry Potter shirt and Star Wars backpack slung hastily over her shoulder, as she grinned and waved him off, saying he could buy her a drink after visiting hours. They exchanged numbers over the off-tasting coffee in the cafeteria when they had both been too early to visit their families on their second meeting.

Dean enjoyed her company, liking how she was as nerdy as he secretly was, and liking how the flow of conversation between them was easy. They empathised with each other with a deep seated understanding of loss, Dean often confided in her about his worries about losing his parents, and she often unloaded her worries of her comatose mother to him.

Charlie was a bright spark in Dean’s otherwise dreary life. When Sam first woke up, Dean text Charlie straight away, who instantaneously replied with a congratulations and a promise to bring Dean fresh coffee next time she saw him, rather than the cafeteria crap. She would often pop in to say hello to both Sam and Dean when she would come in to visit her mother, and Dean was relived to find that her and Sam got along like a house on fire.

When Dean took Sam home for the first time, Charlie came over and brought the entire Game of Thrones box set and a takeaway pizza to cheer them up.

Charlie provided a wonderful distraction, as well as great company from the shit storm that was Dean’s life. Even though he had found himself a job, and was managing to provide for himself and his brother, he was now single-handedly looking after Sam himself. He had to grieve the loss of his parents from his brother’s hospital bedside, and his own mental health was suffering for it.

Jo and Benny came over often too, when Sam finally went back to school when Dean wasn’t working, to make sure he was okay and not suffering alone in silence. Charlie got on well with his other friends too, and they made an effort to get together once a week to watch movies and eat crap food. They involved Sam too, when he wasn’t studying at a friend’s or holed up in his room with a project.

All of this going on, Dean was thankful for the distraction. But the nagging feeling that something was wrong; he just couldn’t shake.

Since the night of the accident, when Castiel had taken Dean home, they had exchanged a brief goodbye after the hospital rang Dean to alert him that his brother had been in a serious accident, Dean had not seen nor heard anything from his Watcher.

Castiel had disappeared the minute Dean had hung up the phone, with a short _goodbye, Dean,_ before he was gone.

Did he ask too much of him? Did he do something wrong? Dean didn’t like how this was left, and no matter how much he called, begged even – Cas wouldn’t come back.

Dean tried – or pretended – not to be hurt by this, after all, Cas had said he wasn’t technically allowed to manifest in front of him, so it had to be that, right? Maybe he didn’t want to get into trouble again. The thing was, Dean could have sworn whenever Cas was near, he could feel the grace around his neck vibrate gently, and more powerfully when he used his powers, like when he healed Sam. But recently, the glass vial had remained as still and cold as Dean’s heart felt.

He felt lost, and the longer he went without seeing or hearing from Cas, the more agitated he became. He didn’t even see him in his sleep anymore. Sure, he dreamt of him, but it was different. It was _only_ dreaming, he knew Cas wasn’t visiting him like he had in the past.

Maybe this was it then. Cas does a big favour for Dean, and then skips out. That was it, all the help he was going to get. Maybe Cas had moved on to a new Ward, maybe he didn’t want Dean anymore.

Maybe nobody needed Dean anymore.

 

*****

 

There was light, and then there was dark.

Then there was only dark.

Castiel lost all sense of time, had no idea where he was or how long he had been there. He could feel his wrists and legs bound, much like when Michael had –

He knew that saving Sam would be too much. How could he be so foolish to do something so reckless he would be taken from Dean? When Dean needed him now, possibly more than ever. He was alone, his parents dead and his brother gravely injured.

What must he be thinking?

Castiel tried to talk, tried to call out for help, but there was no sound passing his lips. His mouth felt dry and his throat as though someone had scratched at it with coarse sand paper.

“Castiel” He shivered at the unmistakeable voice.

He was still submerged in darkness, unable to see anything, unable to sense anything. Footfalls grew closer, until he felt a cool hand against his forehead, and light burst in front of his eyes once more.

Fear clamoured at his mind and created a tight knot in his chest. He knew exactly where he was, and once again he knew nothing of what was going to happen to him here. He knew not what state he would leave this room in – if he left the room at all.

“You disobeyed me again, Castiel” Michael began pacing on the cool white tiles, footsteps echoing menacingly through the small room. “I gave you a chance before, and look what happened. You threw it back in my face”

Castiel gulped audibly, he knew this wasn’t going to end well. Again.

“I did not want to resort to this, Castiel, but you gave me no choice” Michael walked over to a door Castiel had not noticed before, and watched as he opened it. A second set of footsteps joined his leader’s. He looked up into the face of another garrison’s leader. She was composed and cold, and she was feared, just as Michael was. Naomi was not known for being remorseful.

Castiel began struggling harder against his restraints, trying to find any weak spots, any way of fighting his way out. He knew he was unarmed, he knew he was outnumbered, but he didn’t care. He didn’t know how long he had been kept here for, but he felt weak. Weaker than usual. A certain movement, a particular struggle, and Castiel noticed a twinge in his side. Confused, he looked down to the area in question, and was horrified to find a tiny, thin tube protruding from his side, and flowing down into what looked like a larger glass vial than he was used to being around his neck.

Even more to his horror, however, was the blue-white light gently flowing from him, into the glass vial.

They were draining his grace.

“No, please… You can’t do this – Dean, he needs me” Michael just laughed.

“You should have thought about that before you disobeyed me again. You are in serious trouble here, Castiel. Tell me, what happens to an angel without their grace?”

Castiel began to shake harder. No. They couldn’t… could they? Castiel knew not of any angels that had been killed, or exiled to fall in his millennia of life. Was it even possible?

Of course it was. He had heard of it, all angels had. As fledglings, they were told ancient stories of angels who disobeyed, and were exiled to fall as punishment. It was intended to scare the fledglings off from straying from their ordered paths, but Castiel never thought that any of it was _true._ How could it be?

He was about to find out.

 

*****

 

Dean began pacing the room. He was restless and panicking, anxiety tying knots in his chest and constricting his breathing. He needed Cas desperately, now more than ever.

Not because anything new or anything big had happened, but because the age-old self-hatred was rearing its ugly head again, making Dean antsy and the urges to hurt himself were growing more and more every day.

Was it something he had done? Or said?

Maybe Cas felt like Dean had forced him into saving Sam. Cas had said he’d get in trouble if he did it, or maybe it was the fact that Cas said when he had saved Dean it had nearly killed him. What if saving Sam _had_ killed him?

Dean hadn’t seen or heard from Cas for weeks. Months even. His urges to hurt himself had been thoroughly distracted by taking Sam to school, his doctor’s appointments and his physio sessions, when he wasn’t busy at work making enough money to afford all of that, as well as living expenses.

But now it was winter break for Sam, and Gabe had given Dean the time off work to be there with him. That meant long days of doing nothing but thinking up the worst case scenarios of why Cas suddenly didn’t want anything to do with him.

More days passed, and the self-harm returned with a vengeance.

Sam didn’t say anything about the sudden influx of new long-sleeved shirts, nor did Jo, Benny or Charlie when they came round, but the secret looks that they shared that Dean caught made him think they were onto him. He didn’t care, not so long as they didn’t say anything.

Dean often found himself thinking about Cas, fiddling with the glass vial around his neck. The only thing Dean had that reminded him that Cas was _real._ That he hadn’t thought him up out of sheer desperation.

But what was it that Cas had said when he’d given it to Dean? Something about the fact that he needed to be near his grace in order to stay alive?

He hadn’t been with Dean for about 3 months now, at least visibly. But why would Cas not manifest himself anymore? Had he gone off Dean? The questions needed to stop before they made Dean crazy. But he couldn’t help thinking that something had happened to Cas, and he wanted to find out what it was.

Thanksgiving passed without much fuss, and Christmas followed similarly. Dean and Sam spent both holidays with Jo and her family, and her mother Ellen made sure that both boys ate so much they had to sleep off their food comas for hours before they even attempted to go home.

Sam returned to school in the New Year, Dean making him promise to tell him if any of the other kids said anything to him about anything. Dean sent him out the door on his first day back when Sam’s friend Jess knocked on the door, asking if he wanted her mom to give him a ride.

Jess only lived across the street from Dean and Sam, and Sam had always harboured a secret crush on her. When he had come home from the hospital, Jess had come over to their house to bring Sam all her notes that he had missed. Dean teased Sam about it, but didn’t push it any further.

Sam accepted the ride with a blush on his face, and Dean grinned down at him and ruffled his hair. Ah, young love. Sam ran up the stairs to grab his backpack. Racing back down, he threw his arms around Dean in a quick hug goodbye, before a cheery “See you after school!” and the door slamming behind him.

It was that day, which Dean felt particularly lost. The grace around his neck remained dormant, and his heart ached.

Where was Cas?

Dean turned to go up the stairs in order to shower and get ready for work, but a knock at the door stopped him. What had Sam forgotten now?

“Jeez bitch, blinded by love already?” Dean chuckled, opening the door. His breathing cut off when he saw that it wasn’t in fact Sam, standing face to face with him.

Dean took in the rugged appearance of the man, the slightly too-long dark hair, the scruff of stubble outlining his jaw, the dirty clothes, the gaunt look – as if he hadn’t eaten for weeks and the unmistakable piercing blue eyes.

The vial tucked into his shirt began vibrating so hard Dean thought it was going to break.

“Hello, Dean”


	8. Getting Back To You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my lovelies! Sorry this is a day late I had so much to do, college work and all that.  
> This chapter is unedited so if you find any mistakes please do let me know!
> 
> Anyhow, enjoy and feel free to message me, I love hearing from you all x
> 
> ifishouldfall.tumblr.com

He did not know how it happened, all he knew that it happened quickly, and painfully.

Michael had torn Castiel’s grace from him, left him with nothing – leaving him an empty husk of what he once was.

Michael of course could never take _all_ of Castiel’s grace – an angel’s grace could never fully die out until the angel himself died – but it could be made so that the grace would siphon off into almost-nothingness, reaching the point where the angel was no longer an angel, only human.

Michal had collected the grace he wanted, what he wanted to do with it was beyond Castiel, but it was done. Naomi had been the one to unbind Castiel from his entrapment, only to give him a malicious grin before ripping the feathers from his wings and casting him to earth.

As he fell, all he could think was _Dean._ He didn’t know how long he had been away from his Ward.

The fall did not take particularly long. He wondered what he looked like to the human eye. A shooting star? A comet? Or maybe nothing at all.

His agonising screams filled the night sky, and he wondered if anyone could hear him. He thought of his brothers and sisters, his garrison; his friends. He wondered if they could hear him.

He thought of Anael. She had warned him to be careful; but it was Dean that changed everything. After Alfie, Castiel knew that he would have to tread lightly if he was to ever be assigned a new Ward. The fear when that actually happened, though, dissipated - and the need to protect was instantly a persistent urge in his mind.

He didn’t remember landing, only waking up in what looked like a small crater in a wooded area. He recognised it instantly – he was not too far from where he first met Dean, on the chalky Cliffside that his Ward found such calming repose in.

He began walking towards the path opposite to the way to the edge up the hill; towards what he thought was the road. He did not make it far, however. A sudden, overwhelming feeling of _exhaustion_ came over him, swiftly followed by gnawing, undeniable hunger. His throat clenched at the lack of moisture, and Castiel found himself face-down in the gravel path.

He closed his eyes and allowed the familiar darkness to take him. Dean would have to wait for now.

***

Castiel awoke a little while later, when the sky was tinged with oranges and pinks, the sun beginning to warm his crumpled body as he lay in the dirt still.

He rolled onto his back, feeling small pieces of rock and twigs dig into him. He felt uncomfortable, he felt scared. He _felt_.

He was falling.

He pushed himself into a sitting positing and brought his hands in front of his face, turning them over and over again, inspecting them. They were covered in dirt and dust, and for the first time he knew what it felt to feel unclean. He shuddered, and wiped them on his slacks in a vain attempt to rid himself of the imperfections.

He looked over his shoulders, and pulled his wings forward to inspect the inevitable damage. They were worse than expected. They certainly didn’t look like he had only fallen mere hours ago – the area that Naomi had torn his feathers from was no longer mottled and pink, but blackened and looked as though it was decaying. His wings looked as though they were shrivelling, and he stretched them to full capacity. In the early morning light, the shadow he cast shocked him. Instead of seeing great wings looming over his head, feeling his primary feathers brushing the earth beneath him – he could barely make out his wings. It was as though they were translucent, just a vague imprint of what they once were.

This state of deterioration shouldn’t have been happening for at least a few more days after falling.

Which begged the question – how long had Castiel been falling for? How long had he been here, unconscious on the ground?

He needed to find Dean, and he needed to do it soon.

Castiel raked a hand though his unruly hair and turned towards the sunrise, and the path.

He walked on until he reached a long road. He closed his eyes and felt for his grace. Although he could tell there was very little of it left, there was enough. He concentrated, searching for Dean’s soul.

Once he caught on, he tried to spread his wings and go to him – but failed. He was too far gone. Sighing, he began to walk. Finding Dean would be more difficult than anticipated.

***

He walked for hours. He walked until the sun was in the centre of the sky, the air cold and wind whipping his face.

He shivered, and carried on walking in the direction of the warmth of Dean’s soul. The closer he got, the more complete he felt. He felt weak though – weaker than before. He thought maybe Dean would be able to help him.

He couldn’t tell if it was Dean’s soul or his own grace that Dean possessed reaching out toward him, but after hours of walking Castiel wandered into a small neighbourhood, led to him by the road he followed.

***

When he reached Dean’s house – he felt nervous. He paced in front of the small property as a dark blue car whizzed past him. He stood there, feeling _nervous_ for the first time in his existence. He had no conscious record of time whilst he was in heaven, so he was oblivious to the possible horrors that may have occurred on earth. For all Castiel knew, Dean was now a happily married 64 year old with children and grandchildren, and had completely forgotten Castiel’s existence.

Castiel walked up the garden path and up the porch steps, taking in his surroundings. Not that much had changed outside since he had last been here – maybe that meant nothing had changed inside? But looks could be deceptive as Castiel knew, so he tried not to get his hopes up.

He tentatively reached out a hand, taking deep breaths in an attempt to steady himself, and knocked. Panic rose up in his chest and he battled with the overwhelming feeling threatening to take over his consciousness.

A heartbeat – or a millennia – later, and the front door opened.

Green eyes, mouth open in a wide, teasing smirk, and freckles that covered every inch of his face; a face that hadn’t aged a day. This was still _his_ Dean.

Castiel tried for a smile, hoping that Dean could help him, that Dean could save him.

 

*****

 

 

Dean felt his smile falter and his face turn from a playful grin into a look of complete and utter shock.

“C-Cas?”

Castiel smiled, and Dean’s heart lurched. He jumped forward, throwing his arms around the angel’s neck. He inhaled deeply, not even caring if he looked desperate, not bothered by the dirt and grime he was covered in, or the sour smell of sweat covering his skin in a light film.

Cas stood there for a moment stiffly, before suddenly springing into motion and wrapping his arms around the small of Dean’s back. Dean couldn’t help but notice that Cas felt… different.

“You son of a bitch” Dean mumbled into Cas’ neck. “Why?”

“I don’t understand Dean”

Dean squeezed his eyes shut. “Why did you leave me?” He whispered.

“Dean, come” Castiel pulled back and stepped fully into the house. He shut the door softly beside him before pulling Dean into the living room. He sat on the couch and motioned for Dean to sit beside him. “I have much to tell you”

***

“Wait, so you’re _dying?”_ Dean couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He had only just gotten Castiel back. Now he was going to lose him again – forever?

“No Dean – you misunderstand. I am not dying, I am falling”

Dean stared in disbelief. “What’s the difference?”

A smile danced across Castiel’s face, but it did not seem genuine. It was a sad kind of smile, and it hurt Dean more than he’d care to admit to see it. He reached across the space on the couch to take Castiel’s smooth hand in his own calloused one.  Castiel looked up, surprised. He looked Dean in the eyes, all solemn and serious, and spoke again.

“I would rather be dying than falling, Dean. I am nothing compared to what I once was – I can no longer protect you. I can no longer save you. I have failed you. Again”

Dean watched as Castiel lowered his gaze and looked down towards his lap. His free hand fiddled with the tan material of his coat in a very _human_ gesture.

Dean didn’t like it.

“What will I do?” Castiel whispered, almost to himself. “Where will I go?”

Castiel continued his silence for a moment before he spoke again in a broken voice.

“I don’t know what I’ll do. I’ve always had a home in heaven, and now I have nowhere” he shook his head. “I don’t know how to be human”.

Anger boiled up in Dean. He hated Michael, hated Naomi for what they had done to Cas – how they had made him feel. As though he was nothing, as though he was worth nothing. He took Cas’ face firmly between his hands, forcing the angel to look him dead in the eyes.

“Don’t you dare say you’ve failed me, because Cas – you’ve saved me. I’m still here because of _you._ Sammy’s still here, that’s on you. You’ve done more for me than anyone else ever has, so be proud of that.”

Castiel’s eyes had filled with tears and with a confused expression, he brought a hand up to swipe away a stray fallen tear. He raised it up to his eye level, inspecting it. He tilted his head and squinted his eyes, and before Dean could stop it a giggle bubbled out from his lips, and Castiel’s face tinged a pink hue.

“Oh, and you’re staying here. No doubt about it”

Dean watched as Cas’ eyes filled with tears once again – but this time not tears or fear or guilt, but of gratitude.

“Dean…”

Dean couldn’t take it anymore, and silenced Castiel by leaning across the small gap between them and pressing his lips against his angels.

He pulled back to gauge Castiel’s reaction, relived to find that he was looking at Dean with a starstruck expression. Dean rested their foreheads together, and they breathed together for a while.

“You’re staying here, with me, Cas.”


	9. You Were Worth Everything I Went Through

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for putting up with last week's late chapter and not complaining!  
> You had a Cas chapter last week, so here's a Dean chapter.  
> Enjoy my lovelies!
> 
> ifishouldfall.tumblr.com

Sam meeting Cas went without a hitch. Dean simply said that Cas was a patient he had met back in the psych ward, and that now he had nowhere to go.

 They got on well; Sam assumed Cas asked questions about everything simply because he had been inside the psych ward for so long he had forgotten how to function in the outside world – rather than being an angel of the lord.

Cas was adjusting well to his new human life, or so Dean thought. He slept on one of the couches during the night, or wherever he fell asleep. Dean often found him slumped over the kitchen table on one of the hard wooden chairs, surrounded by books that Sam had lent him; Sam had introduced Cas to the wonderful world of The Lord Of The Rings and The Hobbit, the two of them often geeked out as Dean watched on fondly.

Dean supposed that Cas could take his parent’s old room, but going in there was too much, too hard. Dean nor Sam had been in there since the accident – nothing had changed since the morning they left it for the last time. Cas didn’t mind though, he never complained about anything Dean or Sam said; he was just happy to be part of a family.

That’s what this was, Dean thought to himself. Family. Love. He felt happy for once. Happier than he had in a long time.

Coming home from work early and finding Cas curled up in the couch with his head buried in a book, still wearing that god-awful trench coat Dean loved so much caused him to grin so hard he thought he was going to split his face open. The domesticity of it all was a lot to take in, Dean never thought he would reach a point in his life where he would feel this way – but he welcomed it with open arms. No one was going to take this away from him.

For a few weeks everything was going well. Sam went to school, sometimes going to Jess’s after to study, or he would bring Jess over to work together. They were getting increasingly closer, and their young love warmed Dean’s heart. Dean went to work every day for a few hours, picking Sam up in the impala after work and bringing him home. He often wondered what Cas did during the day, but quickly found out when he came home one day after dropping Sam at Jess’s, walking into a house that smelt like charcoal and an underlying smell of something sour.

“Cas?” Dean asked, shutting the door behind him and screwing his face up in disgust.

“Kitchen” a meek voice replied. Curious, and a little nervous, Dean followed the sound of Cas’ voice and the horrendous smell. Walking into the kitchen, he stood in the doorway for a few moments, taking it all in – before clutching his stomach and bending forwards, laughter shaking his entire body. He gasped for breath as tears streamed down his face.

“I don’t understand, what’s funny Dean?” Dean looked up to see Cas doing his cute squinty thing – and hey, _cute?_ Dean knew there were feelings for Cas making their way to the surface but when exactly did he start thinking about him being _cute_?

Cas just continued to stand in the kitchen, countertops and kitchen table covered in varying pots and pans – some dirty, some with blackened food of some kind – holding a tray of what looked like they once were cupcakes, an apron haphazardly wrapped around his waist, having clearly failed its job as the angel had flour all down him, streaks of it smeared across his forehead, a tiny spattering across his cheeks and nose.

When Dean finally composed himself, he crossed the warzone to Cas, taking the tray from his hands and placing it in the last available clear area of table.

“What exactly were you trying to do here, Cas?” Dean laughed.

Castiel blushed and looked towards his feet, the red in his cheeks making the flour dusting more prominent. “I wanted to make you something nice… I tried to make the cakes you brought home from work the other day, I even looked up a recipe – Sam showed me how to use the internet, but I uh… I’m not very good it seems” he mumbled, still looking at his feet and shuffling nervously.

Okay, now that _was_ cute. Hell, that was adorable. Dean brought his hand up and lifted Castiel’s face with a gentle nudge, fingers gently curled against his chin.

“Cas, you didn’t have to. It’s sweet of you, but you didn’t have to do all this” He gestured to the devastation around the room with his other hand.

“I’m sorry Dean”

He couldn’t take it anymore, the flour, the sadness in Cas’ eyes – as if he thought he’d actually done something wrong. Dean unfurled his fingers and cupped Castiel’s face, swiping some of the flour off one cheek with his thumb.

Without thinking about it any further, Dean leaned forward and pressed his lips against Castiel’s. It wasn’t like their first kiss, which had been filled with fear and sadness of being left behind, but filled with warmth and security.

Dean was shocked when Castiel grabbed a hold of the front of his shirt, pulling him closer and fitting their mouths together better. Dean let out a gasp of surprise and Castiel moaned into the kiss, deepening it.

They kissed until they were breathless, leaning their foreheads together and chests heaving. Dean got no warning other than a mischievous glint in Cas’ eyes before Cas was stuffing a hand into the bag of flour that was sitting on the counter top and flinging it at Dean.

He stood there, covered in flour now too, staring at Cas with wide eyed shock. He laughed, and Cas laughed with him, quickly darting around the other side of the table.

Game on.

They fought until the kitchen looked like a blizzard had blown through and they had been caught in it. They called truce and left white footprints in a trail to the couch, where they tangled up together to watch TV. Cas quickly fell asleep, and Dean was so relaxed it didn’t take him long to follow.

They only awoke again when Sam nudged Dean with his knee, saying nothing but raising an eyebrow and giving him a wink, causing Dean to blush furiously.

Sam walked into the kitchen to start tidying up, silent laughter shaking him visibly, even from where Dean was sitting.

***

Cas started getting sick about a two months after he’d arrived on Dean’s doorstep.

It started off as little things at first – Cas waking up in the middle of the night coughing, which escalated into not sleeping, not eating, and passing out near constantly.

It got so bad Dean told Gabe that there was a family emergency and that he needed time off – which he was graciously given. Gabe understood, Cas often came into the bakery to see Dean and to pick up more of his favourite cakes. Gabe knew Dean’s whole family well now, he even knew Charlie, Jo and Benny.

Dean started staying at home after dropping Sam off to school on the day’s that Jess’ mum didn’t take him, and even leaving Cas for such a small amount of time made him sick to his stomach. Eventually, Sam started refusing to let Dean take him because he knew how agitated he got about leaving Cas.

He evicted Cas from the couch – there was no way Dean was letting him sleep there in his worsening condition – he was getting too thin, his cheekbones protruding and eyes sunken in. Dean hauled a very disgruntled Cas bridal style to his own room, despite the complaints.

“Dean, I was an angel of the lord. Please put me down”

This earned a laugh from Dean as he placed Cas down in the centre of his bed. Much to his protest, Cas quickly sunk into the memory foam and his features relaxed as sleep took him under.

Dean stayed on the couch for the first few nights, before Cas reached for him on the fifth night, with pleading eyes looking pointedly between Dean and the space on the bed. With a grin, Dean shut off the light before gently climbing into the bed beside Cas, wrapping him in his arms, trying to make him feel like Dean was protecting him.

When Sam walked past in the morning and noticed Dean tucked into bed beside Cas, he didn’t say anything, only smiling to himself before walking down the stairs, schoolbag on his back and whistling an off key tune.

***

On the third month, Dean had had enough.

Cas was lying in his bed, as pale as the sheets around him, while Dean sat on the edge, trying to gently coax him into eating something.

“No thank you, Dean. I’m too tired… I fear this is Michael’s doing”

“What the hell do you mean?” Dean’s heart rate began to steadily increase, his palms growing sweaty at the mention of the douchebag that cast Cas from heaven.

“Michael could not take _all_ of my grace; that would be impossible. But, he had already taken half to weaken me before he drained me a second time” Castiel gestured to Dean’s neck. “I fear I was already too weak for this to be able to work. Or maybe, maybe angels aren’t destined to live once they have been exiled. Maybe this is the last part of my punishment” He rose a shaky hand to caress Dean’s face. Dean leaned into the touch, resting his own hand over Castiel’s. “Losing you”

“That’s bullshit Cas, you’re not going to lose me. You’re not going to leave me. Remember?”

Castiel sighed. “There is nothing you or I can do, Dean”

In a moment of desperation, he did something he’d been thinking about for a long time. If it didn’t save Cas though, would it kill him? Dean had to try.

He let go of Cas’ hand, and reached up to the pendant around his neck. He grasped the glass vial and pulled, hard – breaking the delicate silver chain.

 _Last chance to not do something stupid_ he thought to himself – before he threw the glass vial to the ground and stomped on it – hard, shaking the bed. Dean looked to Cas apologetically, smoothing out the sheets around him to try and settle him again.  

Cas watched with wide eyes as Dean felt the glass shatter beneath his booted foot, and the thrum of energy that passed through him. Dean felt it as the power flowed through his body, like he had seen when Cas saved Sam, and reached over to place his palm against Castiel’s forehead automatically.

Much to his surprise, the power reverberated and reacted instantly to the touch, and Dean felt as though the energy was draining from him as the blue-white light passed through his arm and into Cas.

Soon, the light stopped flowing and Dean felt drained of anything and everything, he had no energy left at all and he collapsed on the bed beside Castiel.

The last thing he saw were Castiel’s eyes light up with the blue-white glow he felt so safe seeing, before he blacked out.


	10. No Turning Back For Us Now

_Castiel watched with weary eyes as his grace burst from the vial, bright white light erupting around them. He vaguely saw Dean from the corner of his eye passing out from the intensity, noticing more as Dean’s body slumped lax against his own feeble form._

_Like smoke made from light, it rose upwards from the ground, and Castiel could feel the power from it pulling against him. Like it wanted him to go to it._

_He closed his eyes and just breathed, as he felt the cool air around him swirl with intensity, as he felt the grace flow through his mouth and into his very core._

_He felt his body strengthening, the grace healing his malnutrition, his wounds and his feeble body. He felt himself almost swelling with power, his body restoring itself to how it once was. To how he was back when Dean had fallen for him. When he had_ literally _fallen for Dean._

_It didn’t last as long as he’d expected, and he opened his eyes to see the remaining grace in the vial swirl through the air – straight into Dean._

_*****_

_Dean opened his eyes, trying to get his bearings. He sat up and rubbed his head; he felt like he’d been roughed up by Alistair again. Nope, as far as he could tell, he was still at home._

_He turned to see Cas, not however expecting to see him sitting up on the bed beside him, his skin glowing and radiating the power he had at the time of their first meeting. It wasn’t straight away that Dean noticed – he was too busy staring in awe at the angel, he’d forgotten how beautiful he was before he began getting suck. How the light hit his cheekbones_ just right _, how the sunlight reflected in his eyes, making them seem like they were glowing, making them seem infinitely vaster than they were. No, it was after he had comprehended the fact that this was Cas, Cas in his normal state – he’d done it. He’d made him better. He’d made everything better. Things were going to be okay._

 _It was then he looked at Cas._ Really looked _at him. Not just his face, but the whole of him. And he saw the wings._

_“Cas what – “ He choked off, scrabbling backwards on the bed, trying to find purchase on the slippery sheets in his confusion and shock._

_Castiel looked confusedly between Dean and behind himself, and Dean watched as recognition washed over him._

_“Dean, please calm down”_

_“Dude, just now you were dying, and now you have_ wings! _”_

_Castiel sighed and looked down, almost as though he was hiding something. He looked as though he was trying to make himself look as small as possible, and he looked up to Dean with large, apologetic eyes._

_“Cas, what’s is it?” Dean demanded, as Castiel dropped his head once again. Dean used his hand to tilt his face up so Castiel was forced to look at him._

_“Dean, please don’t be angry-“_

_“Cas, I could never be angry with you. What’s up?” he said, a little softer this time._

_Castiel took a deep breath, as if steeling himself._

_“It’s my grace. Some of it resides within you”._

_*****_

_Dean quickly dropped his hand from Castiel’s face in shock._

_“Wait, what? How?” He began to breath erratically, and Castiel quickly tried to calm him by taking him in to his arms, pulling at Dean until he was leaning against his chest, rubbing soothing circles’ onto his back. He waited until Dean’s breathing had evened out before he began to explain._

_“When I first met you, I burned my own Watchers mark onto your soul, effectively claiming you as, well…_ mine _. But your soul reached out and burned its own mark into my grace, claiming me as yours” Castiel waited until Dean looked as though he was processing this information well._

_“My grace sought out to heal both of us. However, it is of course angelic, so there may be some side effects, for example; you seeing my wings”_

_Dean’s breathing began to slow down, and he quickly shook his head as if to clear it._

_“So I’m part_ angel _now?” Dean asked, seemingly to himself. Castiel placed his hands over Dean’s reassuringly._

_“Yes”_

_Dean sat there mouth agape, before the questions Castiel had been expected started coming, like a dam had been burst or the floodgates had opened. Once Dean had started, there was no stopping him._

_Would Castiel ever be fully human? Or fully angel?_

_Where would he go?_

_Could he go back to heaven?_

_Did he want to stay with Dean?_

_Castiel had all the time in the world to answer them._

*****

 

A little under a year ago, Dean had been in a psychiatric hospital for trying to end his own life. Just under a year ago, he had left said psychiatric hospital, still planning on ending his life. Now, he had purpose. He had to be strong for Sammy – he was the only one Sam had left now, and all his friends as well. He of course, had Cas.

Cas – who had been there through it all, whether Dean knew it or not. Cas, who had rebelled against his own garrison, against heaven, just for Dean. The idea astounded him.

Even days after Castiel had told him what was happening to him – why he could see Cas’ wings (even now, the sight of them awed Dean. The way they were almost translucent, but still managed to shimmer, looking silky smooth in the sunlight), why he could sense when Cas was near or if he wasn’t feeling great, he still couldn’t get enough of it.

Sammy didn’t always understand the looks Dean and Cas shared, how Dean would snap to attention seconds before Cas would walk into a room, but of course they couldn’t tell him. Dean wouldn’t know where to begin. They had both already been through so much; he’d probably think Dean had finally lost his marbles.

Even days after, Dean never got tired of waking up next to Cas, their limbs tangled together, eyes blearily blinking the sleep out, warm breath mingling, sharing silent kisses and touches, soft and intimate.

Sam never said anything about the subtle changes in their relationship – like Cas never sleeping on the couch, following Dean blindly out of their bedroom in the mornings in a zombie like state in search of coffee.

That’s one of the most endearing things Dean found about Cas becoming human, or partly human. The mundane things, like teaching him how to brush his teeth, or wash his hair. Dean didn’t have any problem with helping Cas learn how to work the shower, and a quick five minute shower quickly deteriorated into half an hour, with heated touches, the slick feel of skin on skin until the water ran cold and they were both sated.  

He enjoyed the way that Cas was grumpy in the mornings until he had had at least two or three cups of coffee, the way he groaned and moaned gently in his sleep; only stopping when he rubbed his face into Dean’s chest, nuzzling like a cat. But Cas was much cuter than a cat.

He enjoyed the way that when Cas embraced him, he could feel his wings ghosting across his skin, feather-light touches that made him shiver, like the kisses that Cas would press down each knob of Dean’s spine.

And even years after, Dean still appreciated the little things. When Sammy had grown up, still with his long floppy hair and huge puppy dog eyes that never failed to work on Dean; or Cas as it turns out, Dean still appreciated everything that everyone did for him.

Over the years, he learnt to love himself the way Cas loved him – he got to watch Sam grow up into an amazing young man, going off to Stanford and even staying with Jess through the years.

He appreciated the gift of life that Cas had given him –he had gotten his life back. He appreciated it no more than the day that they curled up under the covers together, stripped bare, sweating and panting, Cas’ arm and leg thrown haphazardly over Dean’s body, wings cocooning them both, new silver rings glinting in the low light cast by the moonlight streaming through the windows.

He lay there, content, and realised that Cas had given him the most precious gift anyone could ever imagine all those years ago.

The chance to start again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you have it!!  
> Thank you all so much to everyone who's been here from the start and supported me through it all! And thank you to Paperann, without whom I don't think I would have had the heart to finish this.  
> I love you all so much!  
> Please let me know what you think of it and if you find any errors please let me know.


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